■in  3H?moriatn. 


Jbert  Stoug  Johnston, 


BORN  JUNE  TWENTY-FIRST,  1861, 


Died  January  Ninth,  1885. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2012  with  funding  from 
Duke  University  Libraries 


http://archive.org/details/inmemoriamalbertOOjohn 


. 


if  311 


RICHMOND,  VA.,  January  i6th    1885. 
Dear  Friends: 

We  trust  that,  as  we  have  not  the  strength  in  our  affliction  to 
write,  you  will  accept  this  as  our  notification  to  you  of  the  death  of  our  only  son , 
Albert  Sidney  Johnston. 

Dying  in  his  twenty-fourth  year,  our  son  will  leave  no  sign,  except  in  the  hearts 
of  those  who  loved  him  and  saw  in  him  the  promise  of  a  noble  manhood.  We 
send  you  this  brief  memorial,  not  to  perpetuate  his  early  virtues,  for  which  the 
great  world  has  no  thought,  but  to  recall  for  a  moment  to  your  minds  and  hearts 
one  much  loved  and  early  lost.  Pardon  us,  if  the  pride  and  affection  of  bereaved 
parents  sets  too  high  a  price  on  what  was  so  precious  to  them. 

Albert  Sidney  Johnston  was  the  only  son  of  William  Preston  Johnston  and 
Rosa  Duncan  Johnston,  and  was  the  fourth  in  a  family  of  six  children.  He  was 
born  on  the  twenty-first  day  of  June,  1861,  at  his  father's  homestead,  in  the  en- 
virons of  Louisville,  Kentucky ;  he  received  the  name  of  his  grandfather,  who 
was  then  in  California.  His  father  had  already  espoused  the  cause  of  the  South 
at  the  time  of  his  birth,  and  when  he  was  only  two  months  old,  his  mother,  fol- 
lowing her  husband's  fortunes,  abandoned  her  home  and  took  her  little  family 
South,  where  they  were  refugees  and  wanderers  for  the  four  years  of  the  sectional 
war.  He  was  christened  at  St.  Paul's  Church,  at  Richmond,  Va.,  one  week  be- 
fore its  capture,  with  President  Jefferson  Davis,  General  G.  W.  C.  Leei  and  Miss 
Care,  as  his  sponsors. 

After  the  close  of  the  war,  Colonel  Johnston  became  a  professor  under  Gen- 
eral Robert  E.  Lee,  in  Washington  and  Lee  University,  at  Lexington,  Va.  His 
home  was  at  Clifton,  a  country  place,  one  mile  from  Lexington,  on  the  banks  of 
the  North  (James)  River.  Here  his  children  grew  up,  and  here  Albert  received 
his  early  training  and  education.  There  are  many  who  will  recall  with  a  friendly 
sigh  this  picturesque  home,  and  the  handsome  boy,  who  was  its  joy. 

Albert  was  at  first  taught  at  home,  and  afterwards  attended  the  day  school  of 
the  Rev.  (General)  William  N.  Pendleton,  and  his  daughter,  Mrs.  Susan  P.  Lee. 


The  warmest  affection  existed  between  himself  and  this  family,  in  which  he  was 
treated  as  a  kinsman.  He  was  one  year  at  Washington  and  Lee  University, 
when  he  determined  to  embrace  a  business  life.  He  had  always  been  a  dutiful, 
but  not  an  ardent  student.  He  had  pursued  Latin,  Mathematics,  and  the  usual 
branches,  but  had  had  no  opportunity  for  instruction  in  Zoology,  which  was  the 
only  science  for  which  he  evinced  taste  or  interest.  Books  were  always  irksome 
to  him,  though  his  apprehension  of  ideas  was  quick  and  clear.  The  great  book  of 
Nature  he  studied  after  his  own  methods,  and  for  its  own  sake,  without  a  hope  or 
ambition  for  any  other  reward  than  the  knowledge  itself.  The  desire  to  earn  an 
independent  livelihood  turned  his  attention  to  a  business  career.  He  accepted 
an  offer  of  employment  from  Colonel  Henry  McCormick,  of  Harrisburg,  Penn., 
who  had  been  his  father's  classmate  at  Yale  College ;  so  that,  at  seventeen  years 
of  age,  he  left  home  and  kindred  for  an  apprenticeship  in  the  iron  business.  At 
first  he  was  employed  as  a  clerk  at  the  furnace,  and  finally  as  book-keeper  for 
Colonel  McCormick's  manifold  transactions.  He  remained  in  these  positions 
until  his  death,  with  the  interval  of  one  year  spent  in  Louisiana  and  Virginia,  in 
other  duties.  He  was  very  faithful,  exact,  and  industrious,  and  never  neglected 
any  duty.    He  gave  entire  satisfaction,  and  received  steady  promotion. 

In  Albert's  early  education,  his  parents  aimed  at  moral  and  physical  complete- 
ness rather  than  at  mere  intellectual  superiority,  and  they  believe  the  result  was 
attained.  He  was  a  very  beautiful  boy,  and  grew  to  a  noble  and  manly  presence, 
with  a  strong  resemblence  to  the  grandfather  for  whom  he  was  named,  which 
resemblance  extended  likewise  to  mind  and  character.  He  was  over  six  feet  in 
height,  with  a  powerful  and  active  frame,  and  a  physical  organization,  free  from 
spot  or  blemish.  His  hair  and  eyes  were  light  brown ;  his  features  regular  and 
handsome ;  his  teeth  very  strong,  regular  and  white ;  his  coloring  fresh  and  fair. 
His  bearing  was  commanding  and  dignified  for  one  so  young,  and  his  manners 
had  a  natural  sweetness  and  grace,  in  which  cordiality  and  deference  were 
blended.  He  was  utterly  devoid  of  affectation  and  arrogance,  and  young  and 
old  were  attracted  by  his  friendly  ways.  His  conversation  was  a  reflex  of  his 
mind,  unambitious,  but  sensible  and  to  the  point. 

Brought  up  under  the  shadow  of  the  Blue  Ridge,  in  the  simple  and  hardy  life 
of  our  Virginia  boys,  his  nature  was  entirely  wholesome  and  clean.    It  easily 


resisted  the  greater  vices,  and  readily  threw  off  those  foibles  and  errors  into 
which  the  generous  and  social  impulses  of  youth  so  easily  entice  us.  Finding 
that  smoking  tobacco  had  grown  upon  him  into  an  exacting  habit,  in  his  last 
year  he  limited  himself  to  a  very  small  indulgence  in  it,  and  he  also  absolutely 
refrained  from  every  form  of  ardent  spirits.  In  his  last  illness,  when  the  physician 
ordered  stimulants  for  him,  he  could  not  be  induced  to  take  them,  except  at  his 
father's  request.  He  would  say,  even  in  his  delirium,  "  It  is  against  my  con- 
science." 

Self  control  had  been  set  before  him  as  the  law  of  his  being,  and  he  conformed 
to  it  with  a  resolution  and  purpose  remarkable  in  these  days.  This  was  not  so 
hard  for  him,  as  for  many.  He  was  by  nature  abstemious.  When  a  mere  lad  he 
would  leave  a  table  spread  with  many  dishes  to  break  his  fast  on  plain  porridge 
and  milk  before  a  day  of  hard  hunting.  And  though  devoted  to  field  sports  and 
the  severest  exercises,  he  was  very  scrupulous  as  to  personal  neatness.  Delicacy 
and  strength  were  combined  in  his  character,  and  he  had  a  strong  love  for  the 
beautiful.  His  room  was  decorated  with  chaste  and  simple  beauty,  so  far  as  his 
poor  means  permitted 

He  was  very  fond  of  his  dogs,  his  horse  and  his  gun.  These  were  freely  allowed 
him  in  his  youth,  and  it  was  a  great  privation  to  him  that  he  could  not  enjoy 
them  at  Harrisburg.  He  was  extremely  fond  of  hunting,  especially  of  driving 
the  deer  in  the  mountains,  and  had  killed  his  deer  before  he  was  fifteen.  He 
was  one  of  a  choice  band  of  as  noble  huntsmen  as  ever  followed  hound.  In  his 
last  illness,  in  the  wild  and  wandering  thoughts  of  fever,  he  fancied  continually 
that  he  was  treading  the  piny  slopes  of  the  Alleghanies  and  listening  to  the  cry 
of  his  pack.  In  such  a  dream  he  said  to  his  father  mournfully.  "  I  am  not  much 
of  a  business  man,  but  I  am  a  good  huntsman."  But  he  did  not  like  to  inflict 
suffering,  and  frequently  said  to  his  father,  "  It  is  hard  to  kill  a  deer,  they  have 
such  pleading  eyes." 

He  had  a  steady  friendship  and  understanding  with  all  dumb  animals,  but  his 
dogs  were  his  favorites.  There  was  something  very  touching  in  his  last  act 
when  he  left  his  boyhood's  home.  His  dogs  had  been  given  to  his  friends  as 
parting  gifts,  but  he  wound  his  hunter's  horn,  as  he  was  departing,  and  called 
them  all  around  him  for  a  last  farewell. 


He  loved  all  Nature,  especially  in  its  wild  beauty.  But  his  chief  pleasure  was 
in  birds,  and  this  not  in  any  ordinary  sense.  He  knew  more  about  them  than 
anybody  we  ever  saw.  He  did  not  learn  about  them  in  books,  but  from  a  de- 
lightful companionship.  This  began  with  the  poultry  yard,  and  with  his  chickens, 
in  whose  courage  and  beauty  he  took  great  pleasure.  But  he  reared  all  manner 
of  birds,  and  Clifton  was  a  haunt  for  tame  hawks,  falcons  and  owls,  which  lived 
among  the  trees,  not  molesting  their  foster  brothers  of  lowlier  birth  in  the  poul- 
try yard.  All  the  native  birds  he  knew  familiarly,  and  their  nests,  eggs,  plumage 
and  habits,  with  an  accuracy  which  might  have  instructed  a  scientific  ornitholo- 
gist. His  practical  knowledge  was  so  full  in  this  field  of  observation  that  he 
might  readily  have  attained  note  in  it,  if  he  had  had  any  ambition  about  it.  He 
knew  birds  well,  because  he  loved  them  so  much,  and,  though  so  keen  a  sports- 
man, rarely  killed  them.  In  his  last  illness  he  said  to  his  father,  "  It  is  a  pitiful 
thing  to  see  a  little  bird  die." 

A  business  career  was  not  his  parents'  plan  of  life  for  him,  nor  his  own  wish, 
though  it  was  the  choice  of  both.  It  was  his  and  their  hope,  that  after  a  few 
years  of  preparation  he  might  find  a  home  on  a  farm  among  the  hills  of  Virginia, 
which  he  loved  so  well.  This  was  their  dream,  which  has  been  broken.  It  was 
thought  the  exact  habits  of  business  which  he  had  acquired,  would  be  the  best 
guaranty  of  success  in  any  career,  and  that  the  patient  industry,  self-reliance  and 
dutifulness  of  his  life  in  Harrisburg  would  be  the  fittest  preparation  for  any  future 
which  might  open  to  him.  And  so  it  has  been.  But  it  was  a  heavy  burthen  on  one 
so  young  and  full  of  ardor  to  change  the  free  life  of  nature  to  which  he  had  been 
used  for  the  toil  of  the  ledger  and  desk.  He  did  his  part  manfully  and  without 
complaining.  He  said  to  his  father,  among  his  last  words,  "  I  have  earned  my 
living  honestly — perfectly  so ;  but  it  has  been  by  pretty  hard  work." 

His  life  in  Harrisburg  was  a  very  quiet  one.  He  received  great  kindness  from 
the  families  of  Colonel  McCormick  and  Mr.  David  Watts,  who  was  in  the  office 
with  him. 

Although  the  good  people  of  Harrisburg  extended  to  him  many  kindnesses 
and  attentions,  a  certain  natural  reserve  prevented  him  from  sharing  as  fully  in 
the  social  pleasures  of  the  place  as  his  friends  desired.  This  had,  however, 
gradually  worn  off,  and  in  the  last  year  of  his  life,  he  saw  more  of  the  social  life 


of  the  little  capital.  He  became  a  favorite  there,  and  in  his  last  illness  a  genuine 
and  generous  interest  was  evinced  by  many  kind  attentions,  for  which  his  parents 
now  offer  this  inadequate  acknowledgment  of  their  poor  thanks. 

Albert  was  taken  sick  early  in  November.  His  mother  was  very  ill  in  Rich- 
mond, Va.,  and  he  was  anxious  to  visit  her,  but  his  own  malady  prevented.  At 
first  he  went  to  the  house  of  his  friend,  Mr.  David  Watts,  but  when  he  found 
that  he  was  apt  to  have  a  serious  attack,  he  had  himself  removed,  on  the  21st  of 
November,  to  the  Harrisburg  Hospital.  He  forbore  to  acquaint  his  family  with 
the  severity  of  his  disease  for  fear  of  adding  to  his  mother's  distress.  But  as 
soon  as  they  surmised  it,  his  father  and  his  sister,  Mrs.  Tucker,  early  in  Decem- 
ber, went  to  his  bedside  and  remained  with  him  till  he  died.  They  were  assisted 
in  nursing  him  by  a  kind  friend,  Mrs.  F.  B.  Taliafero,  of  Richmond,  Va. 

Soon  after  their  arrival,  the  disease  manifested  itself  as  typhoid  fever  of  a  pecu- 
liarly malignant  type.  His  illness  was  one  long  struggle,  of  eight  weeks  from  its 
beginning,  between  a  mortal  malady  and  a  constitution  as  nearly  perfect  as  the 
human  body  permits,  and  entirely  unimpaired.  It  was  three  weeks  before  the 
brain  was  affected  at  all,  and  even  in  the  delirium  of  fever  he  preserved  a  lucidity 
which  comprehended  his  surroundings,  and  recognized  the  physicians  and  friends 
who  ministered  to  him,  and  obeyed  their  requests.  His  treatment  by  Dr.  T.  J. 
Dunott,  his  physician,  and  his  assistant,  Dr.  F.  Fithian,  was  kind,  intelligent  and 
skilful,  and  his  nursing  careful,  vigilant  and  tender.  His  friends  were  constantly 
buoyed  up  by  the  hope  of  his  mastering  the  disease.  But  where  he  gained  by 
inches,  he  lost  by  relapses,  attributable  only  to  the  virulence  of  the  typhoid 
poison.  His  strength  and  vitality  were  remarkable,  but  at  length  blood  poison- 
ing ensued,  and  at  last,  on  the  9th  of  January,  1885,  at  five  minutes  past  one  in 
the  afternoon  he  passed  into  his  eternal  rest.  After  all  his  suffering  he  breathed 
his  last  in  his  father's  arms  as  quietly  as  an  infant  falls  asleep. 

Except  when  under  the  influence  of  opiates,  he  had  all  along  shown  reason- 
ableness in  his  fever;  but  when  he  came  from  under  their  drowsy  spell,  at  the 
very  last,  though  so  feeble,  his  mind  cleared.  The  presence  of  his  sister  and 
father  had  been  the  greatest  comfort  to  him.  Now  he  drew  his  sister  down, 
wiped  away  her  tears,  and  kissed  her  repeatedly.    His  last  conscious  act  was  to 


put  his  arm  around  his  father's  neck,  hold  him  close  to  him,  and  kiss  him  many 
times.    Thus  he  passed  away. 

His  body  was  taken  to  Louisville,  Ky.,  in  charge  of  his  kind  friends,  Mr  Simon 
Cameron,  Jr.,  and  Mr.  William  Bailey,  of  Harrisburg,  and  his  brother-in-law, 
George  A.  Robinson,  of  Louisville.  Here  it  was  met  by  loving  kinsmen  and 
friends  of  his  youth.  His  body  was  carried  to  the  house  of  Mr.  R.  A.  Robinson, 
and  treated  with  affectionate  respect.  On  Sunday,  January  nth,  after  a  touching 
funeral  service  by  Bishop  Penick  at  St  Andrew's  Church,  he  was  buried  among 
his  people,  by  his  father's  mother,  in  Cave  Hill  Cemetery.  His  remains  repose 
in  sight  of  his  birth  place. 

Our  boy  was  brought  up,  so  far  as  our  light  permitted  us,  in  the  way  of  piety 
duty  and  honor.  He  was  intended  for  a  sturdy  manhood.  He  was  taught  that 
he  was  here  for  others,  and  not  for  himself;  that  honorable  labor  was  his  ap- 
pointed lot,  and  that  he  was  to  do  the  thing  that  was  right.  He  learned  these 
lessons  well,  and  acted  them  out.  He  bore  a  great  name  and  had  a  charge  to  keep 
it  stainless.  This  he  did.  It  was  often  remarked,  how  little  he  cared  for  ap- 
plause, but  no  one  ever  knew  him  to  do  a  mean  or  unbecoming  thing.  We 
never  knew  him  to  tell  a  lie,  from  babyhood  even,  and  he  took  pains  to  be  exact 
in  his  statements.  He  was  very  brave  and  resolute,  as  was  evinced  on  several 
memorable  occasions,  but  he  was  also  remarkably  peaceable.  No  one  had  fewer 
quarrels,  and  he  never  lost  a  friend,  though  he  had  many.  Though  his  association 
was  wide  and  easy,  he  had  only  a  few  very  dear  friends,  and  these  were  such  as 
we  would  have  chosen  for  him  in  all  the  world.  He  was  gallant  and  deferential 
to  ladies,  and  fond  of  their  society,  though  he  permitted  himself  no  great  indul- 
gence in  it.  To  his  sisters  he  was  a  devoted  brother.  His  intelligence  was 
strong  and  clear;  his  judgment  calm  and  tolerant;  his  life  clean,  virtuous,  and 
temperate  ;  his  whole  nature  pure,  manly  and  generous.  To  both  parents,  he 
was  a  dutiful  and  affectionate  son ;  to  his  father,  a  companion  and  friend  who 
can  never  be  replaced. 

The  last  letter  he  wrote  was  one  to  his  mother,  lamenting  some  follies  of  his 
youth,  and  promising  that  the  self-restraint  which  had  controlled  his  later  action 
should  be  the  rule  of  his  life,  and  telling  her  that  his  love  for  her  drew  him  nearer 
to  her  church. 


He  was  such  a  young  man  as  God  loves,  and  when  the  Eternal  Father 
claimed  him,  his  earthly  parents  feel  that  he  is  in  hands  tenderer  and  more 
loving  than  their  own.  "  We  will  go  to  him,  but  he  will  not  return  to  us."  "  We 
will  go  down  into  the  grave  unto  our  son  mourning."  A  light  has  gone  out  of 
our  life  here.  But  we  rest  assured  that  the  All  Merciful  will  restore  to  us  our 
son,  and  that  our  prayers  for  his  happiness  have  been  answered  by  giving  him 
the  Eternal  Life. 

WM.  PRESTON  JOHNSTON, 
ROSA  DUNCAN  JOHNSTON. 


